LEGACY 
	An Alternative History of the Dominion War 

	Year 1 

Part 1 - Flight 

	Chapter 1

The station was a rush of activity. 

In the limited hours before they left for the unknown, 
equipment had to be disabled, supplies had to be packed, 
along with dozens of other tasks. 

In its own way it was welcome. It kept people's minds off 
why they were so busy. In one short span of hours, the 
whole world had changed. Nobody yet knew how much. 

	***** 

Sisko sat in his office, waiting for a promised 
communication from Starfleet and trying to decide how to 
deal with the bad news. He assumed bad news. Outside,
the Dominion ships looked to have moved closer. 

He knew the basics. The news wasn't going to be entirely 
welcome. Starfleet *was* sending a ship to evacuate them, 
but it was still at least a day away, perhaps two. It 
wasn't big enough to take everyone in one trip. Some 
would have to wait for a second run. 

According to the first message, the Dominion had agreed 
to the evacuation. He hoped it was true. Perhaps, he 
thought, staring at the screen, Starfleet was no
more sure than he was. Just in case, they were sending 
something small and expendable. 

They'd made priorities. Starfleet personnel and their 
families came first, followed by foreign nationals and 
Bajorans wishing to be evacuated. He had Dax working on a 
list for the first run. They would take as many as 
possible on the first trip. The second would include as 
many supplies as time and space permitted. He was 
grateful that so many non-essential personal had already 
been sent home. 

The door beeped. It was Dax. 

She wandered in and sat. In the dim light he thought she 
looked depressed. 

"There is something wrong here," said Dax. 

Sisko paused, looking out the window. He was slowly 
turning the baseball around in his hand. "I know. I want 
as many supplies brought as possible. I sure wish 
somebody would tell us what happened." 

Dax gazed at the ships shadowing the station. "That was a 
huge fleet. It might make Wolf 359 look small." 

"We lost that one, Old Man." 

"I know." 

"Do you think we lost this one?" asked Sisko seriously. 

"Maybe not lost. But there has to be a reason for all 
that jamming and it taking them all this time to send 
someone here." 

"At least Jake's visiting my father," said Sisko in a 
relieved tone. 

Dax looked lost for a moment. She fingered something on 
her hand, a ring that hadn't been there before. 

Sisko remembered Worf holding a keepsake of hers when he 
boarded the Rotarrin. He guessed the ring was Worf's. 

"This will get straightened out somehow. You'll get back 
to him." 

"I don't know, Benjamin. I felt like we said goodby." 

	***** 

Chewing his meal of Federation rations, Bashir wished 
he'd eaten his lunch the day before. The Dominion had 
nearly destroyed the station, but he was especially 
annoyed at them for the replicators right then. He'd been 
assembling medical supplies for hours when it came time 
to take his break and he wandered past the infirmary to 
see what had been done. 

Main power was being restored so necessary preparations 
could be made, but subsidiary systems would not be 
repaired. There was really no point. They were
stuck with the tasteless fare until they got to the next 
replicator. 

But he had more important things on his mind. He stared 
at the ruined spaces in the Promenade, watching the 
Dominion ships out the viewing ports. He had to see
Sisko. It was one of the hardest walks he'd ever taken in 
his life. 

He'd reviewed his patients condition, especially with the 
two evacuations. He hadn't made the decision alone, but 
discussed it with his staff. He had to ask Sisko for a 
change in plans. 

It was a relief to work in the Infirmary. There were no 
windows to look at the fleet poised waiting outside the 
station. He tried to push the image away in his mind 
while preparing himself for the meeting with Sisko. 

	***** 

"This is a very unusual request, Doctor. I would think 
you'd want your patients as far away from here as 
possible." 

"I do, Sir, but it won't help them if they don't survive 
the trip. Some of them need my equipment longer, and it 
won't matter if we evacuate them without it. I can't take 
the larger units. We have quite a number of serious 
injuries that require more than a field kit." 

"Will waiting a few more days make that much difference," 
asked Sisko, carefully watching the doctor's face as he 
fought against gazing at the fleet outside. 

"For most of them it would make all the difference. It's 
going to be a bit crowded as well, I'm told, and my 
patients will take a lot more room. With fewer people in 
the second group it would be much easier to keep them
comfortable." Bashir seemed to be trying hard to convince 
him, but there was an edge to his voice that Sisko had 
noticed at the meeting. 

He watched as Bashir was trying not to look out the 
window. When he did, the fear shone through. "You do have 
excellent reasons, of course, but I would remind you that 
we have no assurance that *they*," indicating out the 
window with his hand "will be all that patient. You could 
be trapped. Have you considered this?" 

Bashir began to say something but paused. Sisko had taken 
him by surprise. He was considering. 

Very hesitantly, looking nervously out the window, he 
said. "I have, Sir. I proposed this to my staff and we 
all agreed to wait. That was one of the possibilities we 
discussed. I . . . we cannot endanger our patients' lives 
for our own convenience." 

Bashir stood, looking scared and determined at the same 
time. 

Sisko didn't like the idea at all. He wanted his CMO and 
charges safely away as soon as possible. But Bashir would 
not make the request without reason. If his patients died 
anyway what good would it do? 

"I'll agree. I just hope this isn't a mistake." 

Bashir looked a little pale. But he stood and turned away 
from the window. "Thank you, Sir," he said very tersely. 

Sisko watched as he retreated from the view. When the 
rest were gone, he and Kira would be the highest ranking 
personnel left behind. He'd have to talk to
the invaders if it came to that. 

When they got home, he'd put in for a commendation to 
Starfleet. When Bashir had first arrived, he'd been young 
and brash and very green. The Dominion and their prison 
had stripped much of that away, and his genetic status 
had set him apart. But this defined him as a man more 
than anything he'd ever done. 

One of the ships shadowing the station shifted its orbit 
a little, and Sisko hoped he had not invited disaster. 

	***** 

Miles and Kira had arrived together. Both sat, tense, in 
the small room as the meeting began. This was the other 
worry, the Bajoran problem--both of them. 

Miles had lines of worry etched on his face from the 
first one. Fifteen Federation dependents, Bajorans 
married to Starfleet personal or families evacuated 
earlier, were trapped on Bajor. Miles' family was among 
them. He was desperate to get them back before everyone 
was forced to flee. 

Miles and the others would not leave willingly without 
their families. 

The other Bajoran problem was for those left on the 
station. They were required to leave as well, and most 
wanted to go home. But ships leaving Bajor were still 
being forced to return. Nobody knew how they were to get 
home. 

Kira was in charge of that problem. 

"I can't even get clear communications with Starfleet," 
said Sisko. "I've tried to inform them of the problem but 
it's been like this since the last message was received. 
I wouldn't count on them for help." 

Kira had been studying the view out the window. "What 
about your evac ship?" she asked. "We could transport the 
families up and my people back. I assume there are enough 
transporters to handle it on this ship." 

Miles brightened a bit. He looked up towards the ships 
outside the station. "If they cooperate. And if this ship 
can do it. It's probably our best bet." 

"I would assume," said Sisko, not as certain of it as he 
sounded. "I'm more worried about the ships out there. We 
can't endanger everyone else if they object." 

But Miles was already making plans. "We'd have to have 
them all in the same location," he suggested. "At least 
we have communications with Bajor." 

"We need a good rendezvous point, one we can defend if 
needed," added Kira. "I can think of several good 
locations. Do we know where our people are now?" 

"I can get the information," offered O'Brien. 

Sisko had the same uneasy feeling he'd had with Bashir. 
It could be a disaster, but somehow they had to try. "All 
right, work on it. When you get something put together, 
let me know." 

They left quickly, eager to get to work. Sisko watched 
with pride. They were good people. He was going to miss 
them. He would get them back, too. Somehow.

	***** 

Bashir hadn't slept for over thirty-six hours, and now 
that the overflowing ranks of injured had been released, 
Jabara insisted on his going to bed. 

"Doctor, if you don't go yourself I'll call Security," 
she insisted. 

"They're too busy," he answered. 

"Then I'll carry you." 

He almost smiled. But he looked over the empty spaces 
where patients had been before and stretched. "Don't 
worry, I'll go. Hope I make it . . . . " 

	***** 

He hadn't bothered to undress, just lay on the bed as he 
was. He was too exhausted to take the time. He expected 
to drop off to sleep immediately, but there was a nervous 
edge there he couldn't wish away. Half-asleep, he 
wandered to the replicator, requesting Tarkalian tea. 
Only after he said the words out loud did he remember it 
wasn't working. He settled for water and collapsed back
into bed. 

He slept. 

But the nightmare started immediately. He was in the 
barracks at Internment Camp 371, sitting on his bunk with 
a disrupter aimed at his head. It hurt from the bashing 
he had taken earlier. He watched in shock as the Romulan 
was killed, shoved back on the bunk by one of the guards. 
He expected to die if Garak didn't hurry, or perhaps even 
if he did. 

It was not dream-like. All the smells he'd grown used to 
filled his mind. Random vibrations shook the walls. He 
tried not to look as he considered if he could reach the 
knife before they killed him. But he'd wait. The shadow 
of the rifle shielded his view of the room. 

Then, one of the guards discovered how to open the wall. 
He held his breath while they looked inside. But this 
time Garak made a noise, or shone a light, and the guard 
continued inside. There was a struggle, but Garak was 
dragged out. A blast from the disrupter destroyed all of 
Garak's work, and the Cardassian was thrown to the floor. 

There would be no escape. 

The disrupter was shoved against his head and he froze. 

He couldn't take his eyes off Garak. The tailor tried to 
sit up and was shoved back by the guards boot, kicking 
him to the floor. 

Behind them was a commotion. The Breen had gotten up and 
taken one of the Jem'Hadar weapons. Both the Breen and 
the Jem'Hadar died, but Bashir and Garak and the Romulan 
were firmly covered by the others. 

Time passed. He didn't know how much since this was a 
dream. 

The doors of the cell opened, and the Vorta entered. 

He walked over to Garak, looking down on him. 

Stepping back, he ordered the guards to shoot. 

Bashir could not close his eyes, watching as the 
disrupter blast ripped through Garak and he disappeared. 

The disrupter was pulled away from his head. Then 
something heavy crashed into him and there was just 
blackness. 

	***** 

He woke up suddenly in a heavy sweat, not sure where he 
was, frozen in place for a second as he realized the 
emergency lights cast the half-light in his quarters. 
That nightmare had shadowed his sleep for months after 
his escape, but he'd not had it often of late. Sitting 
up, he watched the warships that waited. 

What if they took him again? He was suddenly struck with 
the possibility. He would rather have died in the attack 
than go back to that hellhole. He would not be able to 
sleep, afraid of the other dream. Sitting up, he stumbled 
to his feet and retrieved his rations. He'd missed lunch 
and dinner today. The dim light cast unfamiliar shadows, 
and he turned away from the view of space around
them. 

He nibbled on his rations, wishing there was something to 
do. He was too tired to leave and too edgy to sleep. It 
wasn't bright enough to read. 

Soon, though, the rest would leave and he'd be too busy 
to sit alone like this.  He almost wished the ship had 
come and gone. It would be over sooner and they'd know if 
it had been a mistake. 

For now, it was done. Sitting on his couch, he rolled to 
his side and fell into an exhausted sleep. 

	***** 

"We're done, Benjamin. They all have their entry passes. 
This way we speed things up, so we won't have to check 
names." Dax sounded exhausted and her eyes were red. 

"Good work, Old Man." He wanted to say more, but not in a 
meeting, and even in private she had not appeared to 
listen. He was worried about her. 

"How are the supplies coming?" he asked. 

Kira spoke up. "Proceeding. About half of them are ready. 
They're being loaded into the docking bay. We're asking 
for volunteers and getting them so they should be loaded 
in time." 

"Good," said Sisko. Looking at Bashir, he added, "How are 
your people coming?" 

"Slowly, but we can't pack what we need for the patients. 
We will be ready for the second group, though." 

"How are the patients doing?" asked Sisko. 

"Improving. I believe none will be in danger by the time 
we leave." 

There was a subtle shift in mood when Bashir spoke. Most 
of the rest of the people in the room would be gone by 
then. He was set apart from them. 

"Now, what about the Bajor problem." 

O'Brien spoke first. "We've been able to contact 
everybody. We're trying to get them to the rendezvous. 
This is assuming that the captain agrees." 

"He's in charge of an evacuation. That means everyone," 
said Sisko, with a bit more confidence than he felt. 
Normally it would be assumed, but nothing was "normal" 
anymore. 

"My people are ready," said Kira. "Is there any word from 
Starfleet?" 

"Nothing. We're still jammed. It's possible that the 
jamming is in this area but there is no way to tell." 

There was a sobering silence in the room. For all the 
brave words, they still had no idea what had happened and 
what the future held for them. 

	***** 

The Promenade was deserted. The shops were all closed, 
and the damage from the explosion was still scattered 
about the floor. The station's inhabitants were keeping 
to their quarters, packing their single bag and waiting. 

The transport would be there in a day. The first group of 
evacuees was on call. They were busily getting their 
rations packed and making sure nothing of use was left 
behind. 

The Dominion had agreed to allow the evacuation to 
proceed, even to the evacuation of Bajorans who wanted to 
go. But nobody really trusted them. The sooner they were 
away, the better. 

Kira had not been able to sleep and decided to take a 
walk. She was surprised to see someone standing near the 
viewing port. 

She recognized Bashir. The figure looked like him, but 
not quite. The body language was wrong. He wasn't 
standing as straight and tall as usual, slumped against 
the wall. She thought he looked very depressed. If he'd 
let down his guard this way, she knew he thought he was 
alone. 

He ambled away from the window, kicking away pieces of 
the metal that was still lying where it fell. He stopped 
and studied a blood stain still in place, tracing it out 
with his foot. 

She could see his face as he stared toward the viewing 
port, toward the Dominion warships sitting there waiting 
for, what? A bit of light shone into his eyes, and she 
could see the fear. But he'd chosen to stay behind. It 
must have been a very hard decision. She knew about hard 
choices. 

She approached quietly. He jumped when he heard her 
footsteps. 

His eyes were locked on the warship nearest the window, 
arms folded, shoulders tense. She suspected he wasn't on 
DS9 at the moment. 

Gradually, he shifted his focus to her, a little confused 
as if she had interrupted something. 

"Oh, Major, I didn't hear you." 

"I couldn't sleep," she said. 

"I couldn't either," he said. 

"You look like it's been a few days." 

He stared at the window and what lay beyond. "Not really 
since they got here." 

"Nightmares?" she asked. 

"I imagine that if I go to sleep, I'll wake up back . . . 
there." 

"In the internment camp," she said. 

"In isolation. For a long time," he said, not moving his 
focus. "And if I do get to sleep I dream about it." 

She understood how he felt. Everybody was nervous, but he 
had more reason to be scared. 

He also had responsibilities, and should at least try to 
sleep. 

"You still need some sleep. Even if only an hour or two," 
she said. Her tone was understanding. 

He closed his eyes as if to break the spell, and began 
wandering down the Promenade. 

"You know, I was actually glad when Garak and Worf showed 
up. Not that I wanted to wish that place on them, but 
just to see a familiar face. Tain's signal was helpful, 
gave us a little hope, but still I didn't really expect 
to come home." 

His eyes were watching something, but not on the station. 
In almost a whisper he added, "Especially after they . . 
. after I was put in isolation." 

She noticed the catch. He'd been debriefed on his 
experiences. He'd had to have told somebody. But he 
wouldn't talk about it. 

"It gets better," she said. 

He turned to look at her, skeptically. "Really?" 

"Most of the time," she said. 

He walked along the Promenade for a short distance, 
turning towards the Infirmary. Kira was following him. He 
motioned her to wait as he went inside for a moment. 

He emerged with two small patches. "This will help induce 
sleep," he explained, handing one of them to her. 

They went to their respective quarters, following the 
same route. 

She thought of the obnoxious young officer who had 
arrived five years before and wished, for his sake, that 
he was still there. 

	***** 

He lay in his bed, his quarters pitch dark. He had 
thought about using the sleep inducer, but it would only 
bring the nightmare. He didn't need the nightmare to 
remember. It was still a very vivid, detailed memory, 
especially since the Jem'Hadar were sitting just off the 
station. 

It wasn't just being put into isolation. It was what had 
happened before as well. 

He had broken one of the rules, and the rules were very 
important. 

They had yanked him up with unexpected strength, slamming 
him against a wall. He still remembered how the rough 
rock had stung his face. He was stunned for a moment, and 
felt his hands being tied with a heavy cord digging into 
his skin. Held between two Jem'Hadar, he'd been dragged 
away and tossed into a cell. 

It had been dark. He had landed on a bare rock floor, 
face down. He couldn't move, the way his hands were tied. 
He remembered keeping absolutely still for a long time, 
trying to keep from further pulling on the cord around 
his wrists. Eventually, he had fallen asleep. 

Something had kicked him hard in the side. He couldn't 
pull away, couldn't shield himself, and they continued to 
kick as he shrank into as much of a protective position 
as possible. Then, gradually, everything became hazy and 
he didn't remember it ending. 

Awareness came again as his shirt was being pulled up and 
away, under his arms. They hadn't moved him, but he could 
feel the bruises as they manhandled him to reveal his 
bare skin. He caught a glimpse of an object in one of the 
guards hands. He froze in anticipation. 

Something was jammed into his spine. A white hot jolt of 
pain shot through him.  He screamed. He pulled against 
his wrists but the pain of that was trivial. 
The prod was moved, this time lower and jabbed into him 
sharpely. The agony surged through him again. After that, 
his memory of it was vague, except for the pain and the 
screams. 

Then it stopped, and for a few minutes, still conscious, 
he was left to rest. But they started again. This time it 
was jammed into the base of his spine, and even the 
memory of it was missing. 

That much he had told them about at the debriefing. That 
and the isolation. There were physical scars to prove it. 
The rest he had kept to himself. 

He had come to later in a different cell, this one with a 
metal floor. It was half dark and there were sounds 
nearby of slight movement. He wasn't alone, he vaguely 
thought. 

The door opened with a squeal after an unknown amount of 
time had passed. Heavy thuds shook the floor. He froze as 
they came near, pausing but moving instead towards the 
other prisoner, choosing between them. They left him 
alone. His  face was turned away from the sounds. He lay 
absolutely frozen in place, listening. 

It was a Cardassian. At first, the only sound was the 
impact of the blows and a quiet grunting. They began to 
use the prod and the screams began. 

Frozen in place, he tried to push away the memories of 
his own torture. 

The screams stopped. For a time there was nothing but the 
sound of ragged breathing. Then they beat the Cardassian 
harder, using their rifles this time. The man was 
sobbing, softly, begging them to stop. They didn't. 
Eventually, the sobs ceased. Not even the ragged 
breathing could be heard.

The feet began moving towards him. He could not breathe. 
He was certain he was next. 

He felt his hands being tugged on. His arms were numb 
from below his elbows, and he barely felt the cord being 
unwound. 

They hauled him to his feet, yanking down his shirt over 
the bruises and burns. As they dragged him out he saw the 
Cardassian. There was a lot of blood. He wasn't moving. 
Julian thought he was probably dead. 

As they shoved him into the pitch dark isolation cell he 
wondered what the Cardassian had done. Which rule had 
been broken? 

He'd stayed in isolation long enough to lose track of 
time. 

Sometimes, he dreamed about the Cardassian, but in his 
dreams both were merged into one. He feared the next time 
it would be him. 

And now, *they* were sitting just off the station. It 
took every bit of control he had not to just take the Rio 
Grande and run. 

	***** 

The ship that would take them from the station arrived 
the next day. At first, it was almost as if there had 
been some mistake and a lost ship had found them. 

Sisko watched as Dax relayed the request to dock. Every 
eye in the room was on the old, battered freighter that 
stood among the sleek Dominion ships waiting to dock. 

"Permission granted," said Sisko, watching with dismay. 

Nobody had expected the Enterprise, but something faster 
and more up-to-date than this wreak. 

The Antelope docked without delay, the Captain requesting 
permission to come aboard. 

Sisko was waiting for him. Captain Barrett looked over 
the faces and looked almost amused. "I assume you were 
expecting something else," he said. 

Sisko stepped forward, extending a hand. "Captain 
Barrett, welcome to DS9. And no, we expected something a 
little more, uh, newer, but none the less we are very 
relieved that you're here." 

Barrett was well worn, and his eyes were grim. "I 
understand why they picked my old bucket. I did suggest 
something larger but there wasn't anything close enough." 
He looked over the cadre of officers with Sisko, taking a 
deep breath. 

Sisko nodded, "I'd like to hear those reasons. But we 
don't have a lot of time. My people are ready to board if 
you are." 

"We cleaned out all the cargo bays. Sorry, but we really 
aren't set up for passengers. You'll have to put up with 
things." 

"My people will understand," said Sisko. "I would like to 
talk privately," he added. 

"As long as we don't make it too long a conversation," 
replied Barrett. "You can get your people ready and start 
them boarding right away. The sooner we get the first 
batch of you out of here the sooner we can come back for 
the rest." 

Inside Sisko's office, Barrett looked uneasy. He stared 
out the large port at all the Dominion ships. "I could 
live without this view," he commented. 

"I know what you mean," said Sisko quietly. "It was 
beautiful before." 

"Look, I know you're probably curious about why they sent 
a broken-down old freighter to get your people. Partly 
because I was there, I guess, and for other reasons." 

"Which are?" asked Sisko. 

"When they told me what we were doing, I told them they 
were crazy, but as it, well, as it is it's a good idea. I 
guess you do want to get off this station before our 
friends out there change their minds." 

"That's quite true," said Sisko. "What do you know about 
the situation with Starfleet?" 

"Now?Ê Not a lot. But before we left they were trying to 
decide who to defend and who to leave behind." 

"I take it things didn't go well?" asked Sisko. 

"You could say that, too." 

"We haven't heard anything. Since we received the message 
about your arrival, everything has been jammed." 

"Dominion jamming. You do know that you're in occupied 
territory." 

Sisko was surprised at the directness. "Probably 
something to do with them," he said icily staring at the 
Dominion ships. 

"I've heard rumors," said Captain Barrett softly, "rumors 
that sound pretty bad." 

"Such as?" said Sisko, who would take rumors over 
nothing. 

"That they are going to let them have the wormhole, this 
station and probably whatever else they want for the 
moment." 

Sisko didn't say anything. He was thinking about 
Cardassia and the Demilitarized Zone, which was nothing 
of the sort. They had not been willing to risk war with 
Cardassia after the Borg, and it had created the Maquis 
in the process. 

After a moment of reflection, Sisko asked, "Does anyone 
know the source of this rumor?" 

"On high, if you can believe it. They don't want to risk 
sending something armed into this area since it might 
disturb the delicate balance of the moment. So they sent 
me." 

Sisko hated to agree but it made sense. It also meant 
very bad news. 

"Where are we going?" he asked finally. 

"Nearest starbase. There's a rendezvous planned of 
evacuated persons. We're just a fill-in. You'll be 
transferred to a regular ship once we get to the
evacuation point. With cabins and such." 

Sisko was growing increasingly suspicious that there was 
more they wouldn't like. "An evacuation point?" 

"You know. I dump you there and go back and get the rest. 
Then they parcel you out as they have transportation." 

"I can think of other names for that," said Sisko. 

"So can I, but I thought you'd appreciate if I didn't use 
them. I'd think you'd rather be there than here." 

Sisko sat for a moment, watching the Dominion ships. That 
was true. To be treated as refugees from lost territory 
wasn't his first choice, but it was better than being 
here when they took the station. Still, the man didn't
understand that for Sisko this was losing his home. 

But he wasn't interested in getting personal. There were 
some important details that had to be discussed. 

"We do have a problem," he said. 

"Oh, I see. And I can help solve it." 

"Actually, we need your transporters. We have fifteen 
dependents of station personnel on Bajor. We haven't had 
a way to get them off. We're getting them to a central 
point. They will need to be beamed aboard." 

Barrett had lost his mood. "And what do you think *they* 
will be doing at the time?" he said, pointing at the 
fleet. 

"If we are allowed to leave, shouldn't our families be as 
well?" asked Sisko. 

"I think that's up to them. But I'll give it a try. Not 
on the first run, though. If they have a problem with it 
I don't want to have to come back." 

"That's reasonable. There is another problem. We have 
Bajoran nationals who want to go home. They have no way 
to get there." 

"Except my transporters." 

"Exactly." 

"How many Bajoran nationals are we talking here? I can 
take ten at a time, so it wouldn't take a long time to 
get 15 people off Bajor. But I wouldn't want to wait too 
long or nobody gets out of here." 

"That's true. I'll discuss it with Major Kira. Now, as 
far as our trip, how long will it take to get to this 
evacuation point?" 

"A couple of days, probably. The second batch will have 
to wait about four days." 

"And what do we do when we come aboard?" 

The captain laughed. "You mean, do you have to sleep on 
the floor? Not quite. My bays are rather nicely laid out. 
I think you'll do fine." 

Sisko was relieved. "My people are ready. I assume they 
are on the way." 

"Good. I'd like to be out of here ASAP." 

	***** 

The line of evacuees waited patiently, bags in hand. As 
they advanced to the door, their passes were recorded and 
names were automatically listed. Then their assignments 
were given and they entered. It was all quite orderly, 
and the line melted away to nothing. 

Once inside they were surprised. There were separate 
areas set up for sitting, sleeping and eating. They were 
going to have to figure out how to entertain themselves, 
but while it wasn't luxury, it wasn't as bad as they'd 
imagined. 

There were three bays set up for passengers, the larger 
one specifically for families. It was a little crowded, 
but for a couple of days they could live with it. They 
would be leaving the Dominion fleet behind. That was what
mattered. 

The fourth bay was for cargo, and it was stuffed with as 
much as it would hold. Much of it was food. Most of the 
rest was equipment stripped from the station that 
otherwise would have to be destroyed. The blankets and 
other items of comfort were taken in by their owners. 

Except for a few of the passengers, they were packed and 
ready to leave. 

	***** 

One of the reluctant boarders was Miles. He had 
repeatedly insisted that he wanted to wait. If they were 
going to try to get the families he wanted to be there. 
But Sisko had other ideas about why he might want to 
stay. There was still the Rio Grande. He wouldn't put it 
past Miles to try to get them on his own. 

"Look Chief," said Sisko carefully, "I know how worried 
you are, but you have to think of everybody. They are 
going to try to get them. Major Kira will be in charge of 
the operation. We'll all do what we can, but you don't 
have to be there." 

"I know, Sir. But I may be able to help." 

"How? I'm sure the Antelope's engineers can do the job." 

"Yes, Sir but . . . . " 

"Yes but nothing, Chief. I want you on that ship." 

	***** 

Sisko had confirmed that O'Brien was on the ship, as well 
as Nog, who had wanted to stay for the next trip along 
with his family, but had been ordered to go with the 
first group. Sisko was making his last two visits before 
departure. 

One was to Dr. Bashir. He had just walked into the 
Infirmary when his commbadge chirped and the klaxons 
sounded some sort of low-level alert. 

It was Kira, sounding urgent. "Captain we need you up 
here immediately". 

He knew the tone, and hurried out the door. He'd see 
Bashir later. 

Kira pulled him into his office when he arrived. 

"This came in ten minutes ago," she said, indicating the 
message and image. A building, no, several buildings had 
been blown apart. 

Sisko stared at it with a knot in stomach forming. "Who 
and what?" 

"There was a meeting going on between Weyoun and the 
elected Bajoran government," intoned Kira. "Shortly after 
Weyoun had left, when the proposals were being discussed, 
someone set off a bomb. Captain, there is no Bajoran 
government at the moment. Bajor has already been 
threatened by the Jem'Hadar." 

"Who claims responsibility?" said Sisko soberly. 

"A splinter group from the Kohn Ma. They made a few 
threats before against the Federation, but never carried 
them out. They claim the Kai and the others betrayed 
Bajor. The have vowed to fight to the death." 

"That might be a very short fight," said Sisko. 

"They aren't worried about that," said Kira, a deep 
sadness in her voice. 

	***** 

Sisko had ordered anyone on the ship to remain. He didn't 
want any extra problems. But for those left on the 
station the problems were just starting. He had called a 
small meeting. 

Captain Barrett had been asked to attend, along with 
Kira, Bashir and a few others who formed DS9's new 
temporary command group. The Dominion ships were still 
there, still waiting. Sisko could taste the fear in the 
room. 

"We can't wait four days to return, not under current 
circumstances," said Captain Barrett. "We will have to 
find a new destination. I don't like a defenseless ship 
just sitting there." 

"I agree," Sisko added. "We have a plan but we need your 
advice. There are some semi-populated planets just into 
Federation territory. We need the best possibility." 

"There's a couple of Ag colonies in a straight line from 
here. I suppose any of them would do for a short stay." 

"How short?" asked Sisko. 

"Maybe a week. Maybe more." 

"Depending on how bad things are?" asked Kira. 

"It isn't a real good time to change plans," Barrett 
explained. "We'll have to figure out how to get you off-
world if there are problems. But, under the circumstances 
I'd say you and your people would be a whole lot safer 
waiting there than here." 

"What about the people there, are you going to warn 
them?" asked Bashir. 

"No. We don't want to ask for problems. I beam your 
people down and they won't have much to say about it. I'm 
not saying they'll like the idea, but I think they'll get 
over it." 

"What about conditions?" asked Bashir. Should I send a 
med team?" 

"Conditions? Probably rather extreme. We'll have to use 
their replicators for tents, but you'll manage. As for a 
team, it might be a good idea if you had them ready to 
walk out the door right now. But I want to go as soon as 
this meeting is done." 

Sisko liked the sound of it less and less. But it was 
better than leaving his people for days in such a 
dangerous position. 

"How many people are left on the station?" he asked Kira. 

"Including all Bajorans, perhaps 150." 

Sisko turned to Barrett. "When we arrive, we empty the 
larger bay. The return trip will be much less 
comfortable, but we will need more room for supplies." 

"Good idea. The supplies have to be ready to load as soon 
as we get here, though. I don't want to waste time on 
supplies when all those ships are out there." 

Sisko nodded. He addressed Bashir and Kira. "For your 
parts, I need anything of value packed for shipping. 
Include small household-type items. But the concentration 
will be on food and medicine. Bedding and clothes might 
be necessary too. Basically, any potentially usable 
items." 

Bashir mumbled agreement. Kira was thinking, and added, 
"What about materials for shelters?" 

Barrett answered before Sisko had a chance. "If you want, 
but don't make it a priority. If things get that bad 
we'll make more. Bring food and medicine as your 
priority. Just in case it takes a while." 

Kira nodded. "I know about that." 

"Good. Look, I want this meeting over. I want out of 
here."

"I'd like to stay," said Sisko, looking over the room. "A 
Captain stays with his ship. But I've been specifically 
ordered to go with the first load. I'd like a few minutes 
but I'll be there very soon." 

"Just hurry. We should have already been gone," said 
Captain Barrett. 

Sisko had one more thing to say. 

"Now, I don't want to have to say this, but if the 
station is taken, as far as Starfleet is concerned, you 
were illegally captured and it will be treated as
such." 

Bashir looked at Sisko, scared. "That won't help us very 
much." 

*I know*, thought Sisko. "We'll just have to make sure we 
don't have to find that out," he said. 

Bashir stared at him. On a filthy street in the middle of 
a Sanctuary District, Sisko had almost said the same 
thing. Bashir had asked what the Federation would do if 
it had the problems those who'd made the Sanctuary
districts knew, if it would abandon the lost and prove 
humanity no better than the rest. 

Perhaps Bashir remembered. "Or, perhaps we have." 

It was quiet and unsettling, and Sisko didn't know what 
to say. 

Bashir finally looked away, and Barrett stood. "I hope 
you don't have much to do, Captain, because I want to 
leave now." 

He'd wanted to speak to Bashir, but now could think of 
nothing to say. Instead, he turned to Kira. "Any problem 
with my final instructions?" he asked. 

"No." She was watching him, then glancing at Bashir. 
"Julian and I can handle it." 

Sisko retrieved his bags and took one last look at the 
place he'd called home.  The baseball was in his hand, 
and he shoved it inside his bag. 

He stopped at the gate, looking back. Someday, he told 
himself, he'd come home. But now he had to go, and with a 
hesitant step he said good bye. 

	***** 
end, Legacy Year 1, Part 1